Kabel (Short Story)
The following is a raw dump of the original short story. Transcript Saito was pelted with debris as the blast tore cleanly through the sandbags. He lay on his stomach waiting for his senses to return as the ground shook around him. Even his thoughts were drowned out by the concussive clamor of battle, though his own rifle pressed silently into his side from his sudden dive to the ground. Looking up, Saito saw where the explosion had come from: A dark-skinned girl who couldn't have been older than sixteen, casually scooping stones from a ditch into a basket. At the crack of gunfire, she turned and whipped one of the stones toward the source of the noise. Saito saw smoke trail from the rock as its surface flared an angry crimson. Just after the rock had left Saito’s field of vision there came a thunderous boom. The assault had been a train wreck from the beginning. They were deep in Erawan territory – deep enough that most artillery shells changed course midair or vanished entirely. Stun grenades were typically enough to break an Evincer's concentration and snowball an attack in their favor, but against numbers like these, such strategies backfired. Combat in terrain as open as this was near impossible. Evincers relied on having a clear view of the battlefield, and after the crops had been torched they'd had plenty of that. Saito picked himself up and darted behind the remains of an old stone hut. The girl hadn't seen him yet, though at this distance she’d be sure to hear him if he reloaded. Fishing out the last grenade from his pack, he pressed his back against the wall and peered around the corner. Surprise attacks were ideal for taking out Evincers, and in his position the odds were stacked in his favor. As Saito's grip tightened on the grenade, his thumb found a dent in the metal casing. He looked down. Damaged munitions were never a good sign. Then again, the girl would surely kill him if he hesitated. Attacking was the clear solution. Saito held his breath and pulled the pin. Before his arm had even wound up, he was thrown to the dirt, his entire body ringing with the force of the explosion. Shrieking pain resonated through his body, blood gushing from his wrist as he slipped into unconsciousness. The first thing Saito was aware of was a tremendous ache in his limbs. His head felt as if it had been crushed in a vise. Cracking an eye open he saw an off-white canvas above him and curtains on all sides. Recognizing it as a medical tent, he closed his eyes again and let out a sigh. Then, the quiet tapping of a telegraph caught his attention. “... right hand. Third degree burns along arm. Traumatic brain injury. Multiple fractures.” The tapping was followed by a rhythmic droning: “Chance of recovery?” “Condition stable, full recovery impossible.” “Fit to fight? Fit to work?” “Negative to both.” “We can't spare resources to rehabilitate.” Saito's heart leapt to his throat. He'd heard rumors of soldiers being euthanized, but had never seriously considered them when he was assigned to intelligence. Even when he'd been demoted to infantry, indignation had blinded him to the possibility of it happening to him. Inwardly Saito told himself to relax. There was little to suggest he was the one on the chopping block – these tents were huge, and he didn't even know whether the injuries being described matched his. But the hairs on the back of his neck told him otherwise. In his mind's eye he followed the footsteps from the place he’d heard the telegraph. Just as he heard the sound approaching him, a thought suddenly crossed his mind. Why did a medical tent need curtains? He’d never noticed any when he was first drafted into the service. When Saito saw the curtains being drawn back, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. The nurse came closer until he could feel a presence at his left side. He tried to control the pounding of his heart. The moment he felt the dampened cotton swabbing his inner arm, Saito's eyes flew open. His hand shot out, grabbing the nurse's wrist before he'd even seen the hypodermic needle in her other hand. The nurse recoiled with a yelp, struggling against Saito’s grip before torquing her arm to grab his wrist and press it down into the mattress. As she leaned in, needle at the ready, Saito's right arm rushed forward to stop her, catching her in the chest. Saito's wrist exploded with pain and stars clouded his vision. He screamed breathlessly, eyes fixed with horror on the bandaged stub where his hand had once been. By the time he was aware of anything other than the blinding agony in his wrist, Saito felt the nurse withdrawing the needle from his arm. * * * “I regret to inform you that Saito Belikoff was reported killed in action while deployed in Merad, Erawa. I hope you can find solace in the knowledge of his heroic service to the state. I extend my deepest sympathy to you.” Thane stared blankly at the page. His mouth had never felt so dry after reading just three sentences. The shared bedroom already felt emptier, knowing one of its inhabitants wasn’t coming back. “Think it's true?” he asked Asra. “Maybe by coincidence. Could've been blown up. Could've been put down. I see it happen pretty often.” The flatness of Asra’s voice would've sounded callous were it not for her vise grip on Thane's shoulder. The usual green glint of her eyes now shone a dull gray, much like his own. Diego had been standing in the window, looking out over the city like a gargoyle. “It’s time to leave,” he said matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing left for us here.” Thane cast a glance at him across the room. Diego’s response made sense. Between Somoza’s campaign and the Erawan War that followed, practically no one in their family was left. To Diego, losing a brother was just another drop in the bucket. Having lost his father, Thane couldn’t claim to be as jaded. “Now?” Thane asked, although that wasn’t what he’d intended to say. Asra’s grip slackened. “There isn’t much for us to wait around for, is there? I’m sure I’ll be deployed soon.” She was right, of course. Asra was already in the medical reserve, but keeping at least one member of a household on the field was also one of Somoza’s strategies to deter people from defecting. It worked pretty well. No one liked leaving family behind. Thane had even discussed plans to flee in the event no one in the family was effectively held hostage, but it felt so sudden now it was happening. “Get the books from the cellar,” Diego said, still facing the window. “I don’t want them around after we’ve left.” It had been several months since Thane had last been in the hidden part of the cellar. When he pulled on the box fan, it gave a slight resistance, as though something sticky had congealed and fused it to the vent. As he crawled over to the floor panel and slid it aside, he noted the lack of cobwebs even after so much time. Thane lowered himself through the hole and pawed in the dark for the pull chain, squinting and turning away when the bare bulb blinked to life. The space was small, mainly because it had been sectioned off from the rest of the basement by a brick wall and shared the same floor space. The old flag of Chemina hung on the far wall: Four triangles of white, gray, brown, and green, linked impartially over a blue background. Something about the flag seemed more antique than before. It wasn’t Saito’s keepsake anymore, but a historical artifact. Growing up, Thane always thought the old flag looked more sinister than the current one, something Saito adamantly rejected. “The new one is designed like a mountain,” he’d said. “Sure, the likeness of a binary tree is represents technology and progress, but it’s also a symbol of authority. That’s inherently more oppressive.” Beside the flag was a bookshelf. Hand-carved, like the rest of the furniture, but Saito had picked out the simplest one he could, knowing it would be impossible to remove after the basement was bricked up. All the books on it had been banned by the state. Most were about history. Two or three contained political theory or poetry. A handwritten copy of the Erawan scriptures sat on its own shelf. Thane jumped in surprise. Asra had just pinched his ass. “Guess who?” “Diego?” Thane joked, rolling his eyes. “You were down here a while. Are you still bringing this stuff back up?” “It seems like such a waste to burn them, don’t you think?” Thane’s words sounded naive even to him. “Thane… Would you rather be tried as a renegade or traitor? If we get caught, these are the difference between the gallows and thumbscrews. They have to go.” “I know. Just… Give me a minute.” Thane picked up the copy of A Brief History of Cheminan-Erawan Relations and thumbed the pages gently. Age had softened them to a creamy tan. It really wasn't first grade material, but Saito had considered it his duty to counter the grade-school propaganda and read it aloud to Thane anyway. His father never found any children's books that weren't “nationalistic garbage,” so he read straight from the contraband history books and do his best to paraphrase. “Paranormal phenomena were first observed in Erawa in the sixth century, though their nature has been closely guarded by the Erawan Empire. Indeed, nearly half a millennia passed before Zeke Salow observed that the magnitude and frequency of these events correlated with their proximity to the center of the peninsula. “Legends of Erawan magicians known as Evincers had existed for centuries, but it wasn't until Salow interviewed defected practitioners that he theorized the center of Erawa contained what he called a 'subjective fracture in objective reality,' which enabled the temporary suspension of physical law. Evincers trained to exploit the Fracture, primarily manipulating weather conditions for agriculture and resource production, as well as a source of military power during the period of Cheminan colonization. “The exact nature of the Fracture is unknown - reality becomes increasingly unstable as one approaches it. Within a forty-mile radius, objects from an observer's imagination begin to materialize, and objects not being actively observed may dematerialize. Beyond a thirty mile radius, unconscious eye movements cause earthquakes, and measurement tools begin to malfunction. Experienced Evincers are able to dampen these effects, but there are no confirmed records of the center having been reached. “Salow denied that the Fracture itself could have any concrete shape, insisting that complete subversion of objective reality contradicted the idea of a physical form. He went on to postulate that a point of purely subjective reality might 'explain the spark of consciousness that transformed blood-bots into what we call life.' “Due to the Erawan Empire's reliance on a natural landmark which proved ineffective outside of the local territory, the state adopted isolationist policies, much to the detriment of foreign relations. Erawan-Cheminan diplomacy only soured in the wake of the Cheminan's industrialization, during which engineers proposed using the Fracture to construct a perpetual energy machine. This sparked outrage among Erawan activists who considered technological exploitation of the Fracture heresy, escalating political tensions to an all-out war. “Although Chemina has no shortage of trade partners following their emergence as an economic superpower, the possibility of military intervention by a foreign body is slim. Developed countries have expressed concerns over Chemina's political instability and the risk of its supreme leader Farid Somoza using the Fracture to wage a world war, were it ever secured. Consequently, the two nations have been locked in a stalemate.” Thane's eyes wandered to the torn edge of the page. When he was five, Saito had refused to show him anything critical of Chemina, fearful he’d repeat what he'd heard at school. Thane had thrown a tantrum and tried to grab the book from his father, ripping the bottom half of the page. That was the only time his father had ever gotten physical, shoving him away long enough to place the book out of his reach. He reflected that his father wasn't around to protect the book a second time. When Thane closed the book, he saw Asra had laid the flag flat on the floor and was stacking the rest of the books in the center. He laid A Brief History on the pile and helped Asra tie the corners of the flag into a bindle. After raising the makeshift sack above his head and pushing it into the vent, he looked back down at Asra and leaned forward into her arms. “I’m really going to miss him,” he whispered. “I know.” Asra hadn’t known Saito very well. For the most part, she and Thane had kept their relationship to themselves. No one had been prepared her parents’ deaths during the Erawan assault on Rega, and her moving in had been completely unexpected. Even though she and Saito had done their best to be gracious to each other, the sudden circumstances had made it easiest for both of them to stay out of the other’s way. Then Saito had been deployed again, and that was the last she’d seen of him. The fireplace was already burning when they returned upstairs. Diego had never bothered replacing it with an electric heater, which would make burning the books a bit easier. Thane set the bindle down on the hearth before scooping it back up with a shovel. “Does anyone need to look at these one last time?” he asked, looking between his uncle and partner. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Neither were they, apparently. Diego shook his head. Asra merely shrugged. With a sigh of regret, Thane thrust the spade forward and dumped its contents onto the fire. Thane didn’t get how Diego could be so insensitive about the whole ordeal. When Somoza’s military regime had conquered Chemina, Diego had maintained the position of news editor he’d held prior to the uprising, only he’d been forced to help churn out fake stories and pro-Somoza propaganda. One would think he’d show more emotion watching the last scraps of dissent being burnt to cinders. Asra's response was less surprising. She didn't have nearly the same history with the books – or with Saito, for that matter. The amount of information she’d learned after moving with them had been shocking, but having spent most of her life believing what she heard in school, she lacked Thane's rebellious defiance. Diego argued the school’s overall indifference to reading played a bigger part than the few things they were taught. Somoza wanted engineers. He pushed that agenda to the point that future generations were growing up essentially illiterate, according to Diego. Thane didn’t think either he or Asra were terrible with language, but he could also see why most people from his father’s generation had been funneled into the positions related to anything other than technology. Planning and packing barely took a day and a half. Given that they already had an idea of how they wanted to escape and they were traveling light, it made sense. Still, the suddenness gave Thane the sensation that everything was happening in some dream. He felt as if he were waiting for something to happen before they could leave. Closure, maybe. Thane took one last look at the kitchen. The new refrigerator and dishwasher commanded much of the floor space, forcing the table into the corner and giving Thane the impression that steel monsters were colonizing their home. With the hand-carved chairs and tables on one side and the hulking, off-white appliances on the other, Thane couldn’t help thinking the kitchen looked like a timeline. For as old and poorly insulated as the house was, he had to admit it was nice. They might’ve been middle class by Cheminan standards, but the dishwasher alone would be worth a small fortune anywhere else. If Asra hadn’t been a combat medic, it would’ve been tempting to stay. * * * The train ride to Rega was short and uneventful. Mismatched patches of countryside and smokestacks rushed past them. Most of the trees had shed their leaves, baring their wiry skeletons for the coming winter. The constant rumbling of the car lulled Thane into a half-sleep. Diego snored quietly in the seat across. Leaning against him was an army backpack filled with Thane's and Asra's uniforms, food, water, and a flashlight. “I'd always wanted to take you back home with me, but I never imagined it like this,” Asra said, staring out the window. Thane opened his eyes and looked across to her. “Yeah. Me too.” He wanted to say he wished he'd gotten to know her parents, but they'd had this conversation ad nauseam and saying it didn't feel sincere anymore. “Do you think you'll be able to do any tricks when we get there?” she asked with a small smile. Thane looked at her curiously. When he'd been in the service, Thane had participated in a study to create Cheminan Evincers. Since Erawan meditation techniques were closely guarded, researchers had experimented with medication to try to produce the same results. Thane was considered a failure by the project's standards – he'd even been released from service on disability when the drugs made him sick – but there’d definitely been points when he'd shown promise as an Evincer. “I don't know,” Thane said truthfully. “Rega is pretty close to the Erawan border. I might be able to do something simple. Control a coin flip, maybe.” “How far’s the black market from the station?” Asra looked over to see Diego rubbing his eyes. “Not too far,” she replied. “Probably ten minutes or so on the trolley.” “You haven’t been here in years. You sure it’s in the same spot?” Asra nodded. “It’s run by the officers. Unless someone picked up the whole barracks and put it down somewhere else I doubt it’s gone anywhere. Also…” Asra’s finger stabbed at the windowpane. Thane and Diego followed her gaze to see a massive trade port coming into view. Piers stretched out into the yawning ocean, speckled with more cargo ships than Thane could count. “That’s where we want to go once all of us have uniforms,” she asserted. “Since the Republic of Debony is the only trade partner as far north we are, ships commuting anywhere else should have tropical barnacles stuck to them.” “And we’re sure we want to go to Debony?” Thane asked. “Distance is the key factor here,” Diego cut in. “Every country in Kabel is trying to get their hands on Cheminan engineers. We can expect political asylum pretty much anywhere. What’s important is we make it to land before we’re discovered.” Thane gazed at the ships for several seconds before realizing the train was slowing down. Looking ahead toward the station, he saw a disgruntled crowd swarming two trolleys. “So can we transfer right here?” he asked. “That’s weird.” Asra frowned. “I’ve never seen the station this backed up before.” As Thane stepped off the train, the salty air of the port city filled his nostrils. He could see the first flakes of snow tumbling from the sky, dissolving instantly on the concrete below. The sight would have been serene, were it not for the restless crowd. A single voice, strong and decisive, cut through the noise. “Because our great leader is holding a rally at the square, the only routes in service today are those running to or from the downtown area!” Diego rubbed his temples in frustration as the crowd grew increasingly agitated. “Does that mean we’re stuck?” he asked Asra. “No, it just means we’ll have to transfer at the square instead of getting a straight shot. And judging by the crowd, it might be a while before we get to board.” * * * The front window of the store was a mess of ropes and nets, with a kayak at the center of the display. The interior housed the same manner of goods, fishing rods brushing lightly against the low ceiling. The counter stood at the rear of the store. Behind it stood a middle-aged woman with a crew cut and stocky build. Asra walked straight over to her as she looked them over with shrewd eyes. “Hey, Vanna.” The woman’s voice was sharp and monotone. “Asra. Haven’t seen you around. And you’ve got company, too.” “Yeah. This is Diego. We’re looking to get him a uniform and dog tags.” Vanna raised an eyebrow in mild interest. “All right,” she said, gesturing to the back room. “Come on back and let’s see what we can find.” Diego shrugged and made his way around the counter. As Thane and Asra made to follow, Vanna cast them an amused look. “Is your friend okay with undressing in front of you?” By the time Thane and Asra had exchanged embarrassed looks, Vanna had already ushered Diego into the back. “I didn’t realize you had connections like this in Rega,” Thane commented. Asra looked back at him, slightly confused. “What do you mean? Everyone has a supplier somewhere or other. My dad wasn’t a revolutionary but that doesn’t mean we were naive. My parents took me here since I was eleven.” Thane turned his head toward the window and looked out over the street, taking a half dollar piece out of his pocket and turning it over in his hand restlessly. There wasn’t one parent between the two of them anymore. Asra watched him for a moment. “Hey,” she noted. “You never did show me your tricks.” Thane looked back at her and gave her a shrug. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. Alright, I’m calling tails,” he said, flipping the coin and catching it in midair. Seeing it come up tails, he began flipping it several more times. “How do you know you’re not just getting lucky?” Asra asked after the coin came up tails a seventh time. “You don’t. That’s why coin flips are one of the first things we practiced with. Evincing is just a glorified placebo effect. Here, try and imagine it coming up heads next time.” Asra took a deep breath and glared intensely at the coin as Thane continued flipping. The third flip he made came up heads. “There you go,” Thane smiled. Asra looked back blankly. “What the hell just happened?” “Conflicting wills create a lot of interference. If I were better I probably would have been able to force tails anyway. That’s what makes random events easiest to control - people already expect anything can happen.” “What if you’re alone?” Asra asked. “Does that help too?” “Only compared to having people actively work against you. Combat’s by far the hardest. But if you’ve got people working with you instead of against you it gets way easier.” At the sound of the back door opening, both of them turned to see a uniformed Diego holding a standard issue rifle, Vanna behind him with a wad of bills. “Are you kidding me? I don’t want this.” Thane blinked incredulously at his uncle as he thrust the weapon into his hands. Vanna had pocketed the cash and was now watching them from the corner of her eye, idly flipping through a magazine. “Think about it,” Diego said, pushing the MK-33 into Thane’s unwilling hands. “No one’s going to question you carrying it around, and you might need it at some point.” “Then why don’t you carry it?” “The last gun I shot was a Winthrop rifle, and that was thirty years ago.” Thane closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Diego had a point. And they already had the gun. No point fighting him on the issue now. “Fuck it,” he sighed. “Come on, Asra, let’s get changed. I’m not carrying this thing around in street clothes.” “You can use the bathroom in the back,” Vanna called. “On the condition that you keep your damned mouths shut until you’re gone.” * * * Asra sighed in frustration as they waited at the transit center. They’d barely managed to squeeze onto the third trolley back to the square, and it looked as if they’d be waiting for several more before they could catch a ride back toward the port. The gentle snowfall had grown to a steady billow of flakes that left a thin layer on the concrete. An hour’s delay should’ve been the last thing on Thane’s mind, but it was a nuisance all the same. Somoza’s amplified voice cut through the whistling of the wind. “... despite our recent defeat in Merad, it is only a matter of time before we have secured control over the Fracture. My rule began with the dream that we could create a nation of unwavering advancement, and I stand here humbled by the efforts of the men and women who are making this dream a reality. The entirety of Kabel has already been transformed by our collective innovations, and I promise you, we are now closer than we have ever been to the dawn of a new age. Progress can only move forward, and those who try to oppose us will inevitably be crushed beneath its gears!” Thane felt Diego prodding his shoulder. “What was the name of the drug they gave you in the Evincer program?” he asked. “Ribatol?” “Yeah,” Thane replied, somewhat confused. “That was sudden. What makes you ask?” “I was trying to remember where I’d heard that name before. Vanna had some of it in the back. But it was labeled as a hallucinogen.” There was a long pause, during which Asra gave Thane a concerned look. When he finally spoke, it was with slow deliberation. “I guess that makes sense. Evincing is all about changing your perception to make it reality. I don’t see how else a drug could do that.” Thane turned at the sound of a harsh voice barking in his direction. “Hey! What are you three doing standing around?” A husky man in uniform marched over to them. He didn’t wait for their response. “Our leader’s conference begins immediately after the rally. You should already be waiting in the conference room by now.” He jerked his thumb over toward a theater a block and a half away. Thane could see soldiers stationed at the entrance. “Sorry, Sir!” came his response, almost automatically, which Asra and Diego mimicked a split second later. Thane cast a doubtful glance at Asra, who merely shrugged as they made their way toward the theater. Like it or not, there wasn’t much they could do other than keep marching and hope for the best. As they approached the entrance, one of the soldiers waved them over. “Top floor,” he called, stepping aside to let them pass. When they had climbed half a flight of stairs and Asra was confident they were out of earshot, she spoke up. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m out of ideas here.” “I wouldn’t worry too much,” Diego said in a low voice. “All we have to do is sit tight until Somoza’s done talking. It might be an inconvenience but it doesn’t change anything.” After a brief silence, Asra spoke up. “Do you think Somoza’s right about us moving into a new age?” “I think change is coming,” Diego admitted. “But I also think Somoza’s biting off more than he can chew. If he keeps trying to trade technology like gold and spices it’s going to blow up in his face. It’s taken all of 40 years to go from steam engines to biplanes. Industrial growth helps sovereign power, but it helps the market more. It’s only a matter of time before the market becomes more powerful.” “But Somoza still controls the market,” Thane interrupted. “Doesn’t that just give him more power?” Diego shook his head in frustration. “Countries are already starting to reverse engineer our technology. It’s only a matter of time before Chemina has competitors, and when that happens we’ll have a second explosion of trade. Anyone that wants to rule Kabel will have to do it through the economy.” “I don’t follow,” Asra said flatly. “If governments don’t hold power, who does?” Diego shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say pirates. But at the rate technology is going, producers might become separate entities altogether, assuming they can go international.” “Hey Smarty Pants, come look at this.” Thane waved them over to the fourth-story window. Farid Somoza was still speaking, the podium no more than 300 meters away. Thane hadn’t had much on his mind other than escaping, but just seeing Somoza from this position made the MK-33 feel heavier in its sling. Hitting him at this range would be child’s play. Asra peered over his shoulder to get a better view and said exactly what Thane had been thinking. “Holy fucknuts. We could totally hit him from here. What are the odds?” “Pretty much nothing,” Diego answered, after looking down over the scene for himself. “The question is, do we really want to?” “Are you kidding?” Asra’s eyes widened, somewhere between livid and surprised. “He starts a war that kills both of my parents, he sends your brother to die, and you’re asking if we want to?” “Yeah, I am. What’s really gonna happen if we do? Farid’s son succeeds him, and nothing changes. Except we’re dead. Look how close we are to escaping.” “Are you saying you don’t want me to do it?” Thane asked. Diego and Asra both looked down to see him on one knee, peering through his scope. Diego sighed and gritted his teeth. Even he had to admit such a chance was one in a million. “I can’t bring myself to say no. But if you do it, for fuck’s sake don’t miss.” Thane glanced up at Asra. “You already know what my vote is,” she said. A bead of sweat trickled down Thane’s forehead. The three of them were just a few days from getting out of this fucking war once and for all. No more death notifications. No more anxiety over whether Asra would come back from Erawa in one piece. Thane had never liked the phrase “happily ever after,” but for the first time in his life it seemed a little less like a fairy tale. On the other hand, what were the three of them really worth? How many Cheminans had died during Somoza’s initial rise to power? How many more had met their end on the battlefield? And what of the Erawan death toll? When he considered the quantity of blood on Somoza’s hands he could almost feel the countless spirits of the dead placing their hand over his, pulling back his finger on the trigger. In an instant, before he knew what he was doing, Thane felt the rifle jerking back against him. Thousands of voices screamed out as Farid Somoza collapsed dead in the street. Thane stood at the window in shock for half a second before Asra yanked him away, back down the stairwell. The deafening roar of the crowd outside and the thundering footsteps just above them drowned out any and all other sounds as the three of them sprinted toward the exit. Thane nearly faceplanted into a soldier at the first floor landing who’d been charging up the stairs toward them. Without the slightest hesitation, Diego grabbed the man by the shoulder and pointed to the far side of the atrium. “He went out the back!” Diego roared over the chaos outside, sprinting toward where he’d been pointing and motioning to follow. Thane was still processing the magnitude of what he was done. He was grateful Diego was thinking on his feet - it was hard to imagine what he’d have done if he were alone. The instant they’d broken through the door and out into the street, Thane wished they hadn’t. The square had become a stampede. Hardly had they stepped outside when Asra had been knocked nearly off her feet and Diego, trying to help her, had been swept away by the crowd. In a moment, Thane had lost sight of them and was doing all he could not to be trampled. The first shots were accompanied by new shrieks of terror and confusion as civilians pushed and shoved away from the crack of gunfire. Thane was at the mercy of the frantic, terrified bodies, blindly following the current just to stay on his feet. After several minutes of being funneled down the street, the crowd had dissipated to the point where Thane was able to push and shove his way in the direction he wanted. After elbowing through more people than he could count, he managed to duck into a relatively empty alleyway and catch his breath. A handful of people were scattered through the narrow passage, most nursing wounds. Hardly had Thane leaned against a dumpster to catch his breath when he heard several metal canisters clinking across the asphalt. As his head spun around, he’d just barely caught a glimpse of several officers in heavy black gear and gas masks marching into the alleyway before the cramped space erupted with the fatal hissing of of mustard gas. Thane made it several steps through the alley before the effects caught up with him. With his eyes nearly swollen shut, his thoughts and movements became a wild scramble until he tripped blindly over a drainage pipe and collapsed in a heap. “Thane!” Diego’s voice and staggered footsteps echoed off the buildings. Thane forced himself to open his eyes and saw his uncle gingerly making his way toward him, uniform soaked in blood. When he opened his mouth to call back, sudden nausea gripped him and he lurched forward, vomiting. “Keep your distance,” he finally managed to croak. Diego looked around in confusion, but ignored Thane’s protests, half-kneeling and half-collapsing next to him. At least three gunshot wounds were visible across his chest and torso. “Fuck,” Thane whispered. “What happened?” “The officers made a line and tried to push the crowd back,” Diego said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t see what happened, but things got violent and they started shooting into the crowd. I wasn’t on the side holding the line.” Looking down at his wounds, he added, “Obviously.” Thane forced himself to ignore the nausea and burning in his eyes, momentarily glancing back the way he’d come, but the troops who’d thrown the canisters were nowhere to be seen. Bewildered, but not about to complain, he returned his attention to Diego, shrugging off his backpack and digging around for the first aid kit. “What about Asra?” Diego’s expression darkened. “We got separated in the crowd, but it looked as if she got trampled. I’m sorry, Thane.” Thane exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on the task in front of him. When he tried to unbutton his uniform, Diego stopped him. “Don’t bother. The wounds are too severe.” “No. No! Fuck you, I’m not leaving this country alone.” Diego sighed. “I didn’t ask for it to be like this, but you need to be realistic. Thane, I’m dying.” “I’m not listening to this.” Thane gritted his teeth and ignored his uncle’s protests, opening Diego’s shirt before tearing a piece of gauze out of the kit and soaking it with peroxide. The blood really was everywhere. The gauze barely had to touch one of the wounds before becoming completely saturated. More than once Diego hovered at the brink of unconsciousness, and getting the bandages wrapped around his torso was damned hard. As he wrapped up the last wound Thane was suddenly aware of how quiet everything had gotten and realized he’d completely lost track of the time. “Not a bad patch-up job. Though I could’ve done it better.” Thane’s eyes shot wide open as he turned his head toward the voice. “Asra! Are you okay?” “Yeah, just a few scrapes and bruises,” she said, leaning over Diego. As Thane made to embrace her, she braced her arm in front of her left side protectively, quickly adding, “And a cracked rib. Gently, please.” Thane settled for wrapping one arm around her good side, pressing his lips softly to her cheek. “Diego thought you were…” Asra pulled away suddenly, surveying the bandaged wounds. “Shit. How is he?” “I can still talk, you know,” Diego said, looking up at them. Despite his words it was clear that speaking cost him a lot of effort. “I don’t like being wrong,” he said to Thane, “but I don’t feel like dying just to prove a point, either. Help me up.” Thane winced at the idea of getting him vertical, but he doubted his uncle was about to make some miraculous recovery in the next hour or so. Now seemed as good a time as any. With him on one side and Asra on the other, the three of them slowly got to their feet and hobbled back out toward the street. * * * The three of them were silent on the ride back to the port. It made sense, in a way. Thane couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t have sounded underwhelming. More than that, the trolley provided some much needed normality after a day that could only have been described as fucking insane. The following few days passed in a blur. The government had declared a state of emergency and temporarily suspended exports from Rega, so the three of them had holed up in an inn next to the port. Having barely been able to walk, Diego spent most of his time looking out over the docks, watching for the ships to start moving again. In a backward kind of logic, the delay had been something of a blessing. Asra hadn’t known the departure schedule, but with everything having been pushed back, it looked as though all the ships would be taking off on the same day. A combination of the day’s mayhem and the healthy fear most civilians had for the military made it surprisingly easy for them to make it onto one of the ships. Seeing several ships without barnacles, presumably headed toward Debony, Thane picked the one whose crew seemed to be the most distracted. He’d prepared a handful of lies about needing to inspect the cargo, but none of the crew members, rushing hastily to and fro, so much as looked any of them in the eye. Imitating the crew’s brisk gait, the trio made their way below deck, hoping to find a place to hide. Most of the rooms below deck looked to be cabins. On impulse, Thane tugged on the handle of a door that was slightly wider, finding it locked. Closing his eyes and placing his palm flat against the keyhole, he tried to visualize the pins moving themselves into place and the cylinder turning. Just as he opened his eyes, he felt the gentle click against the palm of his hand. This time the door swung open, revealing a grungy machine room. Judging by the dust that had accumulated on most of the valves, Thane doubted the room saw much activity. Asra and Diego quickly slipped in behind him before closing the door quietly. The mess of pipes and cobwebs was only partly visible from the light of the porthole, and it was several meters back until that the room opened up from the narrow passage of various pumps and engines that forced Thane to sidle through the cramped space. After a few twists and turns, he found a corner large enough to lie down in relative comfort. Sleeping in here and eating cold pork and beans for two days wasn’t exactly his idea of fun, but it was hardly cause for complaint. * * * Thane woke to the sound of footsteps and banter. Looking out the porthole he saw the ship was docked and the crew were already wheeling crates back and forth along the pier. “Guys, wake up!” Thane hissed. Diego picked himself up from his slumped position, and Asra stirred, jolting upright when she remembered where she was. “Did we make it?” she whispered. Thane nodded. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so wide or so naturally. Asra threw herself into his arms and kissed him hard. In the dim light he could see her smile match his. “Let's get off this damned boat.” Thane crept over to the door and pressed his ear against it. Just as he motioned for Diego and Asra to follow over, someone from the other side had pushed the door inward, causing him to tumble backward. A crew member stood in the doorway, then looked down in surprise to see the three of them. “Hey!” he yelled. “What’re you-” The man fell silent as Thane thrust his rifle in the man’s face. “We just want to get off,” he spoke in a low voice. The man’s eyes widened, then scanned the rest of the room. The state rewarded handsomely for turning in defectors, but money wouldn’t mean much if it cost him his life. “Turn around. Put your hands on your head,” Thane demanded. As the man complied, Thane grabbed his collar and pressed the barrel of the gun into his back. He wasn’t thrilled about strolling past the rest of the crew in plain sight, but he didn’t have much of a choice now. The walk off the ship was one of the most bizarre things Thane had experienced. Dozens of eyes watched him with fear and hostility, some shouting, some passive as he passed each of the crew members. This was the last look the three of them would get of their own people. Debonese police were already waiting for them as they made their way onto land, but if Diego was to be believed, they’d at least be safe in their custody. Debonese law enforcement would later report detaining one Cheminan stowaway, who’d been armed, but complied with law enforcement peacefully. Under intensive questioning, he maintained he had escaped with two others, a fallacy interrogators eventually chalked up to shell shock. Like most refugees, he’d eventually be offered a position in the Intelligence Bureau. It was a generous enough offer when one overlooked the fact that the government hardly gave him a choice. Inspiration: Final Fantasy VI, Spec Ops: The Line, The Last of Us, Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade, Iji